


Wait! What are they up to?

by celestialenigma



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Humor, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-26
Updated: 2015-01-26
Packaged: 2018-03-09 03:10:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 605
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3234089
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/celestialenigma/pseuds/celestialenigma
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>How the 'Bad Touch Trio' really spends some of their nights together.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Wait! What are they up to?

**Author's Note:**

> This is just a little idea that popped into my head suddenly. Hope it's not too stupid. Enjoy!

“I don't know about this guys. This still doesn't seem like an awesome way to spend the night,” said Prussia, eyes darting from the living room where he was sitting in his brother's house to the direction of the front door.

 

“You told us that Germany was going to be out all night with Italy,” said France, moving into position in front of Spain, who sat in the seat across from Prussia.

 

“Yeah, sure. It's just that I've only been dating Austria for a few months now. What would he think if he saw me in this position? And this makes me feel weird,” said Prussia.

 

“Mm, hmm, it's okay mon ami. If you don't think you are, as you say, awesome enough to handle this, then me and Spain can have all the fun,” said France, in that damned seductive voice of his.

 

Prussia snorted, “I'm so awesome that I can handle anything. I'm just worried that everyone else's mind won't be able to handle the awesome. And who knows what Spain's ticking time-bomb boyfriend would do if he found out.”

 

Spain moaned as France began to move his hand, “Roma wouldn't care. Besides, this feels so gooood.”

 

“You like that?”

 

“Yeah I do and oh, not so fast though. I'm sensitive there,” said Spain, hands clenched in the arms of the chair, knuckles white.

 

Why did stupid Spain get to have all the fun? The way that France's hand moved, so carefully rubbing, hand covered in lotion. Prussia felt left out.

 

“Hey, come on! Do me now,” said Prussia, “You've done Spain long enough. It's my house anyway.”

 

France rolled his eyes when he turned to kneel in front of Prussia, “It's Ludwig's house.”

 

“I raised him, what's his is mine and Oh. Oh. Oh damn. Oh shit your touch feels amazing! Oh fuck Francis!”

 

Prussia threw his head back just in time to hear footsteps coming down the hall. Multiple footsteps. Crap!

 

He looked towards the front door just in time to see West, standing there with Italy. Romano was beside them, arms crossed over his chest. Austria, was there too, holding a medium sized plastic food container. Oh yeah, Austria had mentioned that he had baked a cake for Prussia. Did Austria say that he was going to bring it over tonight? Prussia didn't remember. He was too mortified to think clearly.

 

“I come here to yell at the potato-bastard for taking all of my brother's time, and then I come here to see this. Spain, what the fuck kind of man are you? Doing this sort of thing. This is just weird,” said Romano, lips turned up in a snarl.

 

West looked around at Prussia, Spain and France before pinching the bridge of his nose. Germany sighed and grumbled, “I need a beer.”

 

Austria just looked smug and vaguely amused, “Well now this is interesting. I didn't know you were into this sort of thing Prussia.”

 

Prussia thinned his lips and looked down.

 

Italy didn't seem to mind at all. He bounced on the balls of his feet and said, “Ve~ Can I join you too? I'd love a pedicure and a foot massage just like Prussia. What kind of facial mask is that?”

 

What a picture they must have made. Each of them had a drying layer of brown facial mask. Francis kneeling before them massaging their feet with some kind of cream after having filed down their nails.

 

“France, buddy?” said Prussia, narrowing his eyes.

 

“Oui,” said France, getting a tub of warm water to begin to soak Italy's feet.

 

“You are never picking our night's activities again.”

 

 

 

 


End file.
